


Fresh Blood

by sessrumnir



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Casual Sex, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Laughter During Sex, Licking, M/M, Shyan Mini Bang 2019, Shyan Writing Events, Supernatural Ryan, THERES LOTS OF BLOOD OK, Vampires, lots of blowjob references, vampire!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sessrumnir/pseuds/sessrumnir
Summary: Ryan is a vampire in a world where vampires are not that extraordinary anymore, really. Still, he thinks he might be getting the short end of the stick when he realizes everyone is having amazing vampire sex, including plain ol' human Shane. So Ryan is intrigued. (Sue him, ok?)





	Fresh Blood

**Author's Note:**

> HI I always end up using the True Blood universe when writing vampires because that is still my favorite vampire-verse, but I've taken some liberties with this one. I just. love that universe, ok? if you haven't seen/read it, don't worry, it's pretty self-explanatory in the beginning! 
> 
> content warning for mentions of blood, including blood drinking (duh).

_Whatever trepidation you may feel_  
_In your heart you know it's not real_  
_In a moment of clarity_  
_Some little act of charity_  
_You gotta pull me out of this mud_

_Sweet baby, I need fresh blood_

"[Fresh Blood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4Qp1TEKswQ)" by Eels

 

 

 

Life as a vampire was, well… Not all that exciting, honestly.

It pained Ryan to admit it, but it was the truth. Ever since the big reveal in the early 2000s, there wasn’t much room to pretend coffins and bat-turning were a thing anymore. If anything, Ryan was like any other Millennial: trying to come to terms with life’s meaninglessness while simultaneously worrying about next month’s rent. The fact that he drank blood from time to time was a mere detail, if that.

He would’ve put more thought into it, maybe, if his life wasn’t busy enough already. Between work, family, and trying to find the perfect girl (he was a romantic—sue him!), he had little left to wonder about the precarity of reality as it was. Plus, he was a lot more interested in ghosts and demons than he was in people who had a bottle or two of TruBlood in the evening. (The Japanese really had mastered the art of making synthetic blood, he had to give them that.) There was not much about his life that was worth noting, and he definitely didn’t make a show of his fangs if he could avoid it.

So he honestly had no idea how one evening, he found himself discussing sex with vampires among a group of his coworkers.

“It _is_ different, what are you talking about?” Kelsey D. was saying, pointing with the glass in her hands. “The fucking _fangs_ , for starters—”

“I agree! It’s pure magic if you know what you’re doing,” Curly shot back.

“It’s _not_ easy, though. Some nasty accidents could happen,” Chantel nodded thoughtfully (drunkenly), making half of the group hiss with the idea.

“Right, but let’s say the person doesn’t skin your dick or your tit or whatever,” the contents of Kelsey’s drink sloshed around perilously in the glass. She was close to showering a couple of them in vodka. “The fucking fangs, my dude. It’s like. It’s fireworks, y'know what I’m saying?”

“That’s true,” Shane said, making Ryan choke on his beer. “I have to agree with that.”

“You had vampire sex?” Ryan asked him in a low voice, in between coughs.

The look Shane gave him was an amused one. “Yeah.” And that was it. He didn’t say anything else, leaving Ryan more confused than he was before. Not because he thought Shane was some kind of puritan who had never had sex, or because Shane never talked about his sex life, period, but because—- _because_ . He tried to fit that information with what he knew of Shane… which wasn’t much, at least not in that department. He had had a thing with Sara from the office, but that thing had died out a while ago, and Ryan was pretty sure Sara was _not_ a vampire. Or was she? No, he was pretty positive she had been the _human_ in more than one “Vampires and Humans discuss X” videos.

The conversation was still going. They had virtually all night to drink and catch up, given they were done with their schedules for the day, and the convention wouldn’t pick up until the next afternoon, but Ryan was distracted now. With the way people were talking about it, about what it was like to have sex with/as a vampire,  it felt like he was somehow out of the loop—which couldn’t be, could it? He _was_ a vampire. One that kept everything about his vampirism on the down low, but one nonetheless.

And yet… He felt dirty, in some way. Like he shouldn’t be listening to all that, like what they were talking about wasn’t him. It wasn’t. He didn’t bite his partners during sex, and he didn’t like to draw blood. Ever. He was happy to drink the fake version of it, and pretend nothing else was out of the ordinary with him. Because truth be told, nothing was. He had been the model older brother to Jake, the son with a degree from UCLA like his parents wanted him to, the friend up to drinking contests at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday at his fraternity. He paid his bills, went to the gym, and worked hard on his videos. He was a normal guy. He didn’t think anything else of himself.

That was the whole slogan for the vampire—or sanguivores, depending on who was talking—rights advocates: they were normal, with a slightly different diet. Not predators, not a danger to society. Normal people.

Settling down to sleep that night, Ryan lay awake in bed for a while, thinking. He didn’t _have_ any vampire friends, did he? Aside from the few coworkers he knew of, he had never been close to one to really talk about things like sex, and feeding on partners, and whatnot. It bothered him now, even though it had never bothered him before—more so now because it felt too late to ask those things. He was nearly 30, and he was having to question his own sex life. Which, granted, hadn’t been the most active as he would’ve liked in his 20s, but it had been there. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He picked up his phone at 4:29 a.m. He couldn’t sleep, and he was probably still a bit buzzed, because he opened the search box and typed in _vampire sex_.

The first two pages were just porn. Just… straight-up porn. He scrolled back up and typed in _vampire sex difference_ , and this time he got a few articles, mainly from women magazines. He opened a page called OhMySexToy and read a comic strip about a person talking to their vampire partner. Mainly, it seemed like a strip about how different sex with a vampire can be, or not. The final message was that sex was what you liked, period. That didn’t help him a lot, so he hit _back_ and found another article, this one about Do’s and Dont’s. Yes, the fangs can be broken. No, being bitten doesn’t affect pregnancy or the fetus. Yes, you should be aware of the amount of blood drawn. Yes, vampire blood can be consumed by humans. No, you will not get high from it, but it can give you a buzz similar to a shot of alcohol.

Ryan read, and read, and read, before he finally clicked on a video that showed a person biting a neck. It was porn, as expected from the URL, and he dialed it down until his phone was on mute—Shane was sleeping on the bed right next to his, and he didn’t want to be caught sneaking around to watch porn on his phone like a 17 year-old.

The video showed a man in his early thirties approaching a 20-something woman from behind. He said something into her ear, and she acted surprised—or tried to; it wasn’t very good acting. Suddenly, he had lifted her and taken her to a large bed that was mysteriously out of frame just a second ago. They took their clothes off—he was wearing a ridiculous amount of black leather—and she said something, lips parted in expectation. He answered, and she nodded, eagerly. Finally, he bared his teeth to show his fangs had slid out, and sank them onto the soft skin of her shoulder. There was no visible blood, but he was clearly sucking it out of her; Ryan was in part surprised, and in part freaked out by the look of pure bliss on her face. That wasn’t acting. At least, most of it wasn’t. It was too _good_ to be acting.

She looked like she had never had that much pleasure in her life.

Ryan closed the tab and the browser, locking his phone and turning on his side. He was, admittedly, a bit turned on by it. Despite the terrible acting and the cringe-worthy continuity errors, he couldn’t take the girl’s face out of his mind. The moment the fangs had bit into her, drawing the blood out of her… Was that what Shane looked like when he had been bitten? _Had he_ been bitten?

He closed his eyes and told himself to stop thinking about it. Immediately. It would do no good to dwell on it, both because it was his friend’s sex life he was wondering about, for whatever reason, and because he couldn’t get turned on now. It was out of question for at least three different reasons. So Ryan kept his eyes closed shut and forced himself to sleep. It worked, eventually.

It was a dreamless night, like all others.

 

* * *

 

Ryan woke up the next day decided to keep his new curiosity at bay, at least for now. They had to go back to L.A., and there was an entire season of True Crime to shoot, so of course he had enough to distract himself from his newfound curiosity about Other People’s Sex Lives.

(He dutifully ignored anything pertaining to his own sex life, thank you very much.)

It worked. It was weeks before he had another quiet time to sit down and drink with friends, this time with one friend in particular. Kelsey had been flirting with him for months, if he wasn’t terribly mistaken, and so here they were, at her place, drinking wine after her perfectly prepared dinner.

“Like two functioning adults,” he raised his glass to a toast and Kelsey laughed.

“Like two functioning adults! God bless alcohol for briefly induced self-awareness!”

They clinked their glasses, giggling with the idiocy of it all. She looked gorgeous tonight, her hair cascading down her shoulders in perfect golden curls, wearing a red and white polka-dot dress.

“You look radiant,” he told her, not containing a smile.

“Thank you,” she said back, voice lower, barely above a whisper. She licked her lips and glanced down at his own, a clear signal if he had ever seen one. “You look great, too.”

He nodded, not wanting to ruin the moment. Deliberately, giving her time to back away if she wanted to, he leaned in, catching her lips in a kiss. It was slow at first, gentle, Ryan trying to acquaint himself with the curve of her lips. She smelled of roses, and he deepened their kiss, one hand coming to cup one side of her face. She took the lead then, shuffling closer, pressing her body against his.

He hadn’t misread the signs—she really wanted this. So much so that in no time they were in her bedroom, lights dimmed to a comfortable orange glow; he helped her out of the sleeves of her dress one by one. She was beautiful, and he wanted to let her know that, kissing her neck, nibbling at her earlobe. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, which in turn made her throw her dress back like she didn’t care where it landed.

“Ryan…”

“Yes?”

“I want it,” she said against his lips, grinding on his lap. His boxers and her panties were the only things keeping them apart now.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I want it so much,” she kissed him, hard. “Bite me. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please…”

Had this been any other time, Ryan would have hesitated. But in the throes of passion, his dick straining against his underwear, he did what he was asked to do: he bared his teeth, letting her see his fangs slide out, and sank right into her neck, where he had been kissing her.

His first thought was: this is different. The taste was different, less thick, more bitter than the synthetic version of it. But it was also delicious, and warm, and he started sucking right away, rubbing Kelsey’s back as she arched in his arms. Some of it was trickling down her neck, staining her bedsheets, and before Ryan could factor that in, he felt resistance. Kelsey was pushing him away, but he was so entranced he didn’t pull back immediately.

“Stop—Stop, Ryan, _stop!_ ”

He did, pulling back to see the gash he had left on her neck. Kelsey was pale, eyes wide, one hand coming up to cover the wound.

“Oh my god,” Ryan seemed to have come back to his senses, finally. He stared at the blood covering her neck and torso. “Kelsey, I’m so sorry, are you—Did I hurt you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’m fine, it’s just… I think you took a bit too much, I’m a little, uh, lightheaded,” she stood up and away from him, covering her breasts with one arm while the other kept trying to cover the bloodied gash.

Ryan stood up, too, picking up his shirt and putting it around her shoulders so she could cover herself. “I’m so sorry, Kelsey, I didn’t—I don’t know what came over me, I—Fuck.”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not fine! Do you need to go to a hospital? Do you want me to call someone?”

“Ryan,” Kelsey smiled, apologetic. “It’s ok. I’m ok. I have everything I need here. Don’t worry.”

He stood there, partially in shock, unsure of what to do next. “Can I help you in any way? Or should I just—?”

“You should go,” she said, not unkindly. “I’ll be alright, I’ll text you in the morning to let you know how I’m feeling.”

“Ok,” Ryan said, looking around for his things. “Ok, I’m—I’m leaving. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t answer, just walked into the bathroom with a towel and a sad smile. Something stung inside of Ryan—she wasn’t _scared_ of him, was she? Because if she was, fuck, that was… Not good. He hadn’t wanted to scare her, he didn’t, but the moment he caught his reflection on a mirror on his way out, he stopped abruptly.

His mouth and chin were covered in red, warm blood. It had ran down his chest, giving him the look of an animal, wide-eyed and cornered. It sent shivers down his spine, and he made sure to clean himself off in the restroom before leaving Kelsey’s apartment.

Ryan felt electric the whole ride home. He was keenly aware of how strong the effect was on him, of fresh blood; his senses were on high alert, and his boner took longer than it should have to flag down, considering the circumstances. He felt disgusted with himself. Not only had he hurt Kelsey, he had made her _scared_ of him. How fucked up was that? He hit the steering wheel one, two, three times, yelling “Fuck!” to the empty car.

That was not who he was. Ryan wasn’t some kind of animal, some kind of predator who took advantage of other people’s trust in him. He kept thinking about his face covered in blood, and how scared Kelsey looked when she walked into that bathroom. That was wrong. That was awful.

Ryan hated himself.

He promised, right there and then, to never drink from a person again.

 

* * *

 

Kelsey was alright. She checked in the next morning, like she promised, but Ryan kept tabs on her as much as he could without sounding like a creep. He didn’t know how he should behave around her—if he should avoid her, let her forget that night ever happened, or if he should keep checking in on her, make sure she was as ok as she said she was.

She decided for him, when she approached him at work a few days after the fact. She looked and sounded fine, healthy, and as confident as ever. That gave Ryan some relief, but he was still unsure at how she wanted to deal with him, so he just listened when she said, “About the other night… I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, out of nowhere. I knew the risks, and we were two consenting adults, but... Anyway, it’s a pity it didn’t work out, but we can be friends still if that’s ok?”

Ryan waited for the second part to drop, the part where she would accuse him of being a monster, of hurting her, and where she’d ask him to stay away from her. That part, however, never came, and she had to wave a hand in front of his face and call, “Ryan?” to get him to react.

“Yes! Yes, of course. I—Are you sure? I feel terrible about what happened, like—like I owe you more than that.”

She waved him off. “Nonsense. Sometimes we’re just not compatible, and that’s fine. It happens.”

Ryan wanted to disagree, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to tell her how she should feel. So he just nodded. “Ok. Still, lemme know if you want to kick me in the balls some day or another. I owe you that much.”

She laughed, punching him lightly in the arm. “Oh, shut up,” she said, before walking away with her coffee.

The fact that she was alright after what happened, however, didn’t ease Ryan’s guilt. He was more certain than ever that he should never have tried something like that, that he was a normal guy in every way that mattered and that he should not have risked someone’s life over a curiosity. It didn’t matter that in every other article he read, it said it was an act consented by both parts—it was his responsibility. His guilt.

He was a vampire, but it didn’t mean he should be proud of it.

With time, he managed to focus on things that really mattered, like work. He was around Shane more often than not those days, between wrapping up True Crime and starting research for Supernatural. It was good to keep his mind busy with work, and he had found some juicy cases for that season, which made research that much more interesting. Besides, Shane was probably the best company he could hope for, despite all the times Shane insisted on adding his weird indie music to their shared playlists.

“Did you know,” Shane offered from his place on the couch, laptop on his lap. “That there’s a sympathy where you turn the figurine upside down so that the saint will find you a significant other?”

Ryan, who had been reading a rather boring thread on dolphins on one of the tables of the resting area, looked up at him. “What?”

“I swear I’m not making this up,” Shane said with delight. “They turn the saint upside down and tell him they’ll only turn him back up if they find someone to snog. That’s _amazing_.”

“Eh, maybe I should give it a try,” Ryan was distracted by the thread again, so he missed the way Shane glanced at him from the couch.

“I thought you and Kelsey—?”

“Oh, no, that didn’t work out. I, uh. Screwed up. Big time.”

There was a moment of silence. Ryan pretended to read his thread, but truth was, he wanted to hear what Shane was going to say to that. If he’d ask, if he’d want to know why. How. Ryan didn’t know if he wanted him to ask or not. He hadn’t shared it with anyone—and how could he, Ryan, the lone vampire with no vampire friends? How could he possibly explain what had happened without sounding like a monster?

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Shane finally asked, and Ryan considered his offer for a second too long.

Maybe he was about to talk to Shane about vampire sex. Maybe. But then again, Shane _did_ have experience with it, didn’t he? He said so himself. And he wasn’t a vampire, he was human. He would see it as Kelsey saw it. A threat? A mistake? He didn’t know.

“I, uh. I don’t know,” he conceded. Because he didn’t. But he tried anyway, because why the hell not. He was already there anyway. “Let’s just say I skipped sex ed in vampire school.”

Another beat of silence.

“Vampire school?”

“It’s a way of saying, Shane, I—You know what? Forget I said anything.”

He glanced at Shane when his friend sat up on the couch, putting his laptop aside.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. But help me understand exactly what you mean here. You two had sex?”

“Mm. No.”

Shane quirked his head to the side, and Ryan added:

“We were about to. She asked me to bite her, and I… I, uh, I bit too hard. The End.”

Shane was watching him, lips parted in mild confusion before he closed them and nodded. Ryan had no idea what he was nodding for, but he took that as a positive sign that his friend wasn’t about to deck him, which was good.

“Was that your first time biting someone in bed?”

“Now that—That right there is _maybe_ too much information for my liking.”

“You’re right, sorry.” Shane seemed ready to go back to his laptop, but it didn’t feel right. Ryan didn’t feel right leaving it at that. After all those days doubting and blaming himself, he had to let it out somehow.

So let it out he did.

“I don’t know what happened. I had never—It was my first time doing it, yeah. Biting someone, I mean. In bed. Well, in general, too. I didn’t know I could hurt her, I just—I lost control, somehow. It never happened to me. I never hurt anyone like that before and it—I scared her. It was awful.”

“Was she alright?”

“Dizzy, according to her. But yeah, she wasn’t hurt too badly.”

“And you?”

Ryan looked up to meet Shane’s eyes. He had been recounting that night with eyes cast down, embarrassed, guilty, you name it. But Shane’s question threw him off.

“What about me?”

“Were you alright?”

Ryan scoffed. “I mean, I was covered in the blood I had just sucked out of my coworker, but sure. I wasn’t hurt, if that’s what you mean.”

Shane watched him for a couple of seconds. His eyes, his presence, something that had always made Ryan feel safe, suddenly felt like they could see right through him. Ryan felt transparent; like all the guilt and the shame was written on his forehead for Shane to read.

“Look…” Shane started, licking his lips. “I’m not a vampire. I don’t know what it’s like to be one. But I’ve been with vampires, and I have friends who are vampires, and if there’s one thing that I’m certain of, is that you’re still as human as anyone else in this company. Whatever it is that requires you to drink blood, that’s not all you are. You’re human, and humans make mistakes. Yours was born out of naivety, if I’m understanding this right. You didn’t mean to hurt her, did you?”

“I really, really didn’t,” Ryan murmured. Shane’s face softened almost imperceptibly.

“So there you have it. You screw up one time, doesn’t mean you’ll screw up the next.”

“If there’s a next.”

“If there’s a next,” Shane nodded. “I’m not here to encourage you to have bouts of passionate, blood-drinking sex.”

Ryan tried really hard to keep a smile from his face, but failed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Damn right I am, baby,” Shane sat back against the couch and pulled his laptop to himself again.

_Don’t call me baby_ , Ryan thought, but didn’t say it. He never did anymore.

 

* * *

 

By some miracle, Ryan managed to leave the awkwardness of his encounter with Kelsey behind. She was still greeting him with a smile whenever they bumped into each other at work, and if he heard the rumors right, she was seeing a guy from her gym, which finally convinced Ryan to not apologize to her every time they did see each other. His conversation with Shane had helped ease his worries too; no matter how close they were, he knew Shane would’ve been honest with him. He had made a mistake. It didn’t need to mean more than it did. Ryan was alright.

Or, well. So he thought.

It took him a couple of beers and a friendly environment to realize that maybe he had left that entire experience still a bit… intrigued.

Shane was sitting right next to him at this tiki bar, which wasn’t something particularly new. Their thighs were touching, and Ryan was staring maybe a little too hard at Shane’s face as he recounted something or another to Matt sitting across from them, but it wasn’t anything that hadn’t happened before. This was Ryan’s M.O. when drunk: loud, confident, sometimes a little clingy. Nothing new, really.

“What?” Shane asked him once he caught Ryan staring at him. No one was paying attention anymore, not with Matt starting on one of his own anecdotes from filming in London that one time.

“What what?”

“You’re looking at me all weird,” Shane said with a confused grin. “Did I say something?”

“You had vampire sex before,” Ryan blurted out before his brain had processed the words. “You said you had.”

“I—Yes?”

“How was it?”

Ryan didn’t know where this was going, or why he had decided that drinks after work on a Friday with another half a dozen coworkers was the best moment to ask that. He just had, realizing just how curious he had been about this whole thing for the last… he couldn’t do math right now. He focused on Shane’s face, battling his own smile with the way Shane was trying not to laugh, eyes glinting with mischief—and probably alcohol, since he held his worse than Ryan.

“I mean, what do you wanna know? It was good. It’s usually really good.”

“Is it?” Ryan was doubtful. “Did it hurt?”

Shane thought for a second, “Sometimes. It hurt when I wanted it to.”

Ryan swallowed dry. He stared at Shane for a second too long, trying to imagine—No. “I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Letting someone bite you.”

Shane laughed, “Why not?”

“I don’t know! You’re—You’re not—You’re you.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

Ryan dismissed him with a hand. “You know what? Nevermind.”

“No, now I wanna know. What do you mean, I’m me? And what does that have to do with being bitten?”

“You’re—You!” Ryan said, exasperated, a bit louder now. A couple of people at the table glanced at him, but no gaze lingered long enough to catch his next sentence. “You’re usually so in control and so full of yourself, you with your gigantic legs and ginormous head and—I don’t know. Why would you let anyone bite you?”

Shane observed him for a long time—or at least, it felt long for Ryan’s alcohol-addled brain. Then he said in a lower voice, “I think you misunderstand what biting someone means. It’s not about overpowering them.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not! Look, it’s… It’s really personal, in a way. It varies vampire to vampire, and the same goes for humans. The people I’ve been with, the vampires I’ve been with, we—We understood each other. There was more than just an exchange of power. I gave up my blood for them, I offered it to them—It’s about communication, and connection and… I don’t know how else to explain.”

“That’s like, the opposite of a fangbanger,” Ryan said.

Shane smiled. “Yeah, like I said, different vamps, different humans, different goals. I don’t play prey, and the people I’ve been with didn’t like playing predator either. Sex is personal, and so is drawing blood.”

“Did you just equate sex with blood drinking?”

“That’s how I see it, baby.”

Ryan was leaning on one elbow by now, staring at Shane drink his beer, half lost in thought. He tried not to stare too hard at Shane’s neck—there was no mark visible, which wasn’t a surprise in itself, since vampire spit had some miraculous healing properties, but Ryan still _looked_. He wondered, and he tried to picture it, and when Shane caught him looking, he gave him a smirk that made Ryan’s breath hitch.

“You’re curious.”

“Of course I am. You make it sound like sex with me should be an otherworldly experience because my canines are pointier or something.”

Shane shrugged. “Maybe it should.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it. Maybe it should, and you need to see for yourself.”

Ryan squinted at him. “Are you _propositioning_ me, Shane?”

“Why, would you be willing?” And then the motherfucker winked, and Ryan was suddenly hot from head to toe.

It’s not like this was a novel idea. Ryan had certainly entertained the thought, more than once, sometimes in the shower because hey, he was human—or at least partially. Shane had always been a constant in his life, and it didn’t escape him the fact that Shane, with his eight miles of leg and eyes that seemed capable of reading Ryan’s most inner thoughts, was well, hot. Ryan had always pushed the thought to the back of his head because Shane was _his friend, for fuck’s sake_ and because Ryan wasn’t so sure what to think of it.

And yet.

Here he was, looking Shane in the eyes, tempted to just close the distance between them and kiss the smirk off his lips. Was it the alcohol talking? Maybe, but Ryan didn’t think so. He was blunt and he was horny, but he was still in full control of his thoughts. Of his limbs? Not so sure. He kept replaying what Shane said about sex being as personal as drawing someone’s blood. About not playing prey. About connection.

“I am willing,” Ryan said, finally, after wandering through his meandering thoughts and coming up for air more certain than ever. “If—If you are, I mean.”

Then Shane did something that had Ryan’s brain officially short-circuiting: he licked his lips and looked down at Ryan’s lips, then back at his eyes. A memory flashed in Ryan’s head: Kelsey doing the same thing, except this time Ryan was at a complete loss of words. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity, until Shane pulled his wallet out of his bag and laid down a bill on the table. “I think I’m gonna go,” he announced to his friends.

Ryan was so thrown off by it that he just stared, open mouthed, until Shane looked at him and said, “You coming?”

Ryan never stood up faster in his life.

 

* * *

 

The Uber ride to Shane’s apartment was quiet, neither of them saying more than a couple of words to each other. Ryan was anxious, which was a given at any time, but also _hot_ , and curious, and. He didn’t know how else to catalogue what he was feeling, so he just focused on not letting the anxiety ride over everything else. It wasn’t hard—it never was when Shane was around. He still remembered his promise not to bite anyone else, ever, and yet... That's what they were planning here, right? This could go wrong so many ways, and Ryan was well aware of them, but Shane's presence was enough to make him think clearly about it. They weren't doing anything harsh. Ryan could never, not only because of his previous experience, but because that was Shane's effect on him—a calming presence, allowing Ryan to just think and not lose it in the mess of his own thoughts. It would be alright. He knew better now. _Shane_ sure looked like he knew better, too.

When they were finally inside Shane’s apartment, with Obi rubbing himself against Shane’s legs and meowing pitifully (“Alright, alright, let’s get you some food, boy”), Ryan didn’t know exactly what to do with himself. He stood around a while, as Shane poured cat food into Obi’s bowl, and then plopped down on his couch, pulling out his phone.

He only looked up again when Shane walked into the room with two wine glasses filled with…

“Water?”

“You know you need it.”

“Shut up,” Ryan said, but he took the glass and drank it to hide his smile. When he was done with it, Shane collected both of their glasses and put them on the table, turning back to look at Ryan. He sat down next to him, closer than his big couch would require them to, and Ryan gulped.

“You sure about this?” Shane’s voice was low, soft, like they were still trying to talk low enough so their friends wouldn’t hear them.

Ryan was. He was never one to back down once he had set himself to do something, and now more than ever he felt that was true; he wanted this, and he let Shane know that, nodding, whispering a “Yeah” back.

Next thing he knew, Shane was bringing a hand to his neck, but it was barely there; he was so careful, his fingers brushed against Ryan’s skin as feathers, delicate but present. A thumb caressed Ryan’s cheek, and Ryan melted. Shane was so close, and it felt so good, so electrifying to be doing this, to be this close, to—

Their lips met and Ryan’s eyes fell close. He didn’t care about how he wound up there anymore. He was so _happy_ , just giddy with it, all of a sudden, that he smiled in spite of himself. Shane drew back and saw him smiling, opening a smile of his own. “You happy there?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s the fondest ‘shut up’ I’ve ever heard in my life,” Shane said before leaning in again for another kiss. This time it lasted longer, and Ryan found himself touching Shane’s neck, too, feeling the roughness of Shane’s beard on his fingertips.

“I can feel your pulse,” he whispered against Shane’s lips. Shane nodded minutely, encouraging him, and Ryan felt around Shane’s neck, the way his blood was pumping faster, harder. Ryan’s every sense seemed on high alert, aware of Shane’s breathing, his pulse, his skin.

“Here,” Shane took his hand and brought it to his chest, right above his heart. “Can you feel it?”

He could. His pulse there was stronger, more clear to Ryan, and it was beating faster than it ought to, considering. Ryan searched for Shane’s eyes, trying to understand if it meant what he thought it meant. Shane must’ve read it in his face, because he said, “Yeah, I’m maybe a little too into it.”

“You never said anything?”

Shane shrugged; Ryan’s hand followed the movement, still on his chest, over his shirt. “You never seemed interested.”

Ryan kissed him again, harder this time. More desperate, if you will. His hand traveled south over Shane’s body, discovering the path to his stomach, around his waist. He was so thin and yet so firm, Ryan wanted to take off his shirt to see it for himself, so he did. He had seen Shane shirtless before, countless times, but never like this. Never within his touch, never with Shane looking at him expectantly.

“Do I look interested now?” He asked as he dived to press a kiss to Shane’s hip bone. Shane grunted something in reply, wordlessly, and Ryan took it as an yes.

It was escalating faster than anything Ryan had ever done with someone before, but he wasn’t worried about it. He could read Shane’s face and reactions like no one else, and he felt then what Shane had said about communication. They could communicate. Not even with words—they were in synch before they even knew about it, and this just proved it. Ryan kissed his way up to Shane’s chest, sucking slightly on the skin of his neck. Shane bucked his hips against him, making Ryan realize they were both hard at this point.

“Fuck,” he said for no reason. Shane chuckled, and Ryan looked at him, entranced. “This is way too intense and we both still have our pants on.”

“Let’s change that, then,” Shane said cheerily, helping Ryan out of his jeans and then pulling his own down his long, long legs. Ryan took his shirt off without a second thought, but it caught Shane’s attention either way; Shane stopped positioning himself better on the couch to grab onto Ryan’s biceps. “ _Mamma mia,_ ” he said.

Ryan couldn’t help it; he laughed, involuntarily flexing his muscles. Shane whistled, making him laugh harder.

“I didn’t know you had a boner for muscles.”

“Neither did I,” Shane replied, still eating Ryan’s shirtless self with his eyes. “But Jesus Christ, man. I knew I missed the Test Friends shoots for a reason.”

“Oh, not because we were working with our friends?”

“Nah. It was your six-pack all along.”

Ryan laughed, and laughed, and kissed Shane to shut him up before he made him laugh more. There was more skin this time, and Ryan could feel everything on him; Shane’s muscles, the goosebumps on his skin, the more insistent touch of his fingers. Shane pulled Ryan with him when he lay back down on the couch, hands traveling towards Ryan’s butt to pull him closer, grinding their hips together. One hand slipped inside Ryan’s boxers and Ryan fucking _mewled_ against his lips, something he would be embarrassed about were it with anyone else; with Shane, he just kept kissing him, grinding down, one hand above Shane’s heart, feeling it pump with life.

They heard a little _flumppf_ and felt a gush of air next to their heads. When they parted, they saw Obi lying on the back of the couch, staring down at them with his big, judging eyes.

Ryan burst out laughing, and Shane had a hard time shooing Obi away while trying not to laugh too hard. His eyes were half moons, crinkling at the corners as he tried to get Obi to move, but the cat wouldn’t budge. They sat up, Ryan still throwing his head back laughing, as Shane said, “Maybe we should move this to the bedroom.”

“You think?” Ryan asked, letting himself be helped up by his hand. “Obi is trying to cockblock you, man.”

They walked into Shane’s bedroom and closed the door behind them. Shane encircled Ryan’s waist with his arms, leaning down to kiss Ryan in the junction between his neck and his shoulder.

“Maybe he thinks you’re trying to kill me.”

“So he got himself a— _Fuck, Shane—_ A window seat?” Ryan was having trouble processing his hilarious thoughts now that Shane seemed determined to suck a bruise into his neck. He could feel Shane’s hard-on against his belly, and fuck. _Fuck_.

They somehow ended up on the bed, although Ryan couldn’t tell you how, since he didn’t remember moving his legs. He was sitting on Shane’s lap, straddling his hip, kissing him like Shane had all the oxygen left in the world. Maybe he had. Maybe Ryan could never find his breath again if he didn’t find it in Shane’s lips, because that’s how it felt to him, anyway.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Ryan stated, and Shane smirked into the kiss.

“That good?”

“No, literally, you’re making me think of oxygen and sh—” He gasped when Shane’s hands found their way into his boxers again, this time both of them, grabbing his butt and squeezing. “Fuck.”

Shane helped him grind down, and Ryan was so hot, so bothered, _so_ . The next time they kissed, Ryan’s fangs were drawn out, and he reveled in the way Shane licked them, added them to their kiss. Shane somehow knew how to work around them, making the kiss last longer than it would have if Ryan were with someone else. He tried not to think of it, of how Shane just _knew_ , as if they had their own body language to communicate in.

“I want you,” he said, rather nonsensically, against Shane’s lips. Shane pulled back only enough to look Ryan in the eyes, still helping him move his hips on top of him. “Shane, I want you.”

“What do you want from me?” Shane asked, eyes so hungry that Ryan wondered if that was something new or if he had seen that look on Shane before. It was a good look on him, anyway.

He pondered the question, wondering, exactly, what did he want from Shane. He wanted _him_ , and of that Ryan was certain, but what else? What did he want from Shane? He searched within himself, both in his rational and in his animal brain, and came to only one conclusion. “You. I want whatever you want to give me. Anything. I just want you, Shane.”

Shane stared into his eyes, mouth half open. He never looked away from Ryan’s face as he dipped his head to the side, exposing his neck. He watched Ryan.

“You can have me.”

Those words fueled the fire inside of Ryan, but instead of diving fangs first into his neck, Ryan slowed himself down. He watched Shane’s face, the way his eyes searched for Ryan’s—would Ryan’s get that reddish glow he had read so much about? He didn’t know—, the way he bared his neck and waited for Ryan to do as he pleased. This was Shane. No matter how horny Ryan was, he knew this man better than he anyone else in the world, probably. He knew Shane’s smell, and the texture of his skin, and now he was learning his pulse, something he could never have learned from afar. Ryan licked a strip up Shane’s neck, feeling the blood pulsing under his tongue, getting incredibly harder in his boxers. Shane tasted sweet, and bitter, and something else that Ryan had no words for. He tasted of promises, of trust. Ryan dragged his fangs over his skin slowly, testing the resistance, feeling with his own body when Shane had a full-body shudder. This was it. He felt like a part of him already, before he even broke his skin; they were together in this, and Shane was offering him more. More than Ryan could ever hope for.

Ryan bit down and Shane moaned.

His fangs sunk easily enough, and the blood started gurgling out immediately. Different from the first time Ryan did this, he paid attention this time; he had learned Shane’s pulse, and he timed his actions to stop the worst of the flow in time. He sucked, and drank, and Shane moaned again, and Ryan felt _alive_. He licked around the tiny holes where his fangs were still sunken in, slowing the rhythm of the blood but still drinking what came to him, what Shane gave to him. It felt like nothing else. Ryan could tell what each of Shane’s muscles was doing underneath him, could time his breathing, could hear his soft moans every time Ryan sucked a bit harder.

The only time he momentarily lost track of what he was doing was when Shane pulled him out of his boxers and started stroking his dick. Ryan growled against his neck, a guttural sound more inhuman than human, and Shane gripped him harder, pumping faster, making Ryan’s eyes roll in his head. Ryan could tell he hadn’t taken too much blood, but he still pulled his fangs out, licking the wound close and the area around it. There was blood trickling down Shane’s shoulder and Ryan licked that, too, paying special attention to the rhythm of Shane’s breathing. Shane sounded close, but Ryan wanted to give him more. Pay him back for what he had given Ryan.

“Shane,” Ryan said, holding Shane’s face close to his own. Shane was staring into Ryan’s mouth, and Ryan knew his mouth was covered in blood. “Shane, lie down.”

Without a word, Shane did what he asked. He lay down on the bed, and Ryan helped him out of his boxers. Shane’s cock was hard, jutting out towards his stomach, dribbling pre-come. Ryan wanted to kiss it, so he did—he kissed the head of his cock, holding it up with one hand, licking down his shaft like he couldn’t get enough of it. Shane was moaning loudly, beautifully, bucking his hips like he couldn’t control them anymore.

It was such a sight that Ryan wasted no time in spreading his legs wider, until he had licked a strip on his groin, on the junction between his crotch and his thigh. He waited until Shane had looked down at him, understood what he was about to do, before he sunk his teeth in again, this time drawing blood from his femoral artery. It wasn’t something he had ever done, or dreamed of doing, really—but he had read about it, had seen it done, and with Shane, it just felt possible.

It was. It was more than possible.

Drinking from that particular spot, Ryan wrapped a hand around Shane’s dick and started stroking, fast. The blood on his mouth was warm, sweet, and it didn’t take long for Shane to shoot his load all over his stomach, half a wail falling out of his lips as Ryan withdrew his fangs and licked the wound clean.  

Ryan had never felt what he was feeling then. It was a filling sensation, of having had a good meal, but it was more than that, too. He felt more attuned to his body, and to Shane’s. When he ran his hands up Shane’s thighs, he thought he could feel the blood rushing in his veins, the way his body gave small tremors, barely noticeable to Shane himself, after his orgasm. Ryan was still so hard, but he was also so _interested_ in everything Shane was and had ever been, that he almost forgot about it until Shane had sat up and claimed his lips.

Shane kissed him hard and fast, and Ryan could feel the blood on his chin being smeared all over Shane’s own chin. He was tasting his own blood, and Ryan was still lightheaded enough to not realize that until Shane pulled back and licked blood from his lips, deliberately, messily. A hand found its way to Ryan’s dick again and Ryan groaned, watching through half-lidded eyes when Shane licked his own hand to make it slicker, touching Ryan again and bringing him over the edge with a passionate kiss and some expert flicks of his wrist.

It lasted the eternity of a moment and then Ryan was slumping over Shane’s shoulder, breathing hard. He let his fangs touch the skin of Shane’s shoulder, just enough to be noticeable, as he tried to catch his breath. Shane was rubbing circles on his back, and Ryan felt so _undeserving_ that he had to laugh.

“What is it?” Shane asked, his voice low and deep, rumbling against Ryan’s chest.

“Me, being corny,” Ryan replied, chuckling against his shoulder. He drew back to meet Shane’s eyes, wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth. “That was bonkers.”

“I aim to please.”

Ryan swatted him on the chest, laughing.

“I’m serious, you idiot. That was—I don’t even know what to say. Thank you?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No, thank you. I mean it. I didn’t know—” Ryan didn’t know how to put it into words. How to explain just how mindblowing that whole experience had been for him. He didn’t know if he was just still in the moment of if he could really still feel Shane’s pulse on his tongue. “Thank you,” he repeated.

Shane watched his face for a while, a soft smile on his lips. He kissed Ryan on the corner of his mouth, so ridiculously sweet that Ryan melted just a bit more in his arms. “Thank _you_ for trusting me with this. For giving me the chance.”

Overwhelmed, trying his very best not to get too emotional over what was some very extraordinary sex in his book and some very sweet words afterwards, Ryan kissed him, cupping his face. The taste of blood was still everywhere, which gave him a clue that he was probably still all covered in it, but Shane didn’t seem to mind. They kissed slowly, gently, and when they parted, Ryan’s fangs had retracted again.

“I’m gonna miss those little guys,” Shane said, noticing it.

“They’re not gone forever, you know.”

Shane raised his eyebrows. “So we’re not done here?”

“I mean—I didn’t mean to assume anything, but I—I would be up for it if you were—”

Smiling, Shane kissed him again, whispering against his lips, “I’m glad. Although I think you took your fair share of my precious blood for today. Gimme a minute to create some more, will ya?”

“You’re insufferable,” Ryan said, standing up to go to the bathroom. Shane laughed, slapping his ass as he was leaving the bed, making Ryan gasp. “The audacity!”

“That’s my middle name, baby.”

And this time, instead of thinking _don’t call me that_ , Ryan was overcome with joy. His big smile didn’t go unnoticed by Shane, who smiled back, and Ryan had a hard time looking away from that face as he walked into the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Two months later, Ryan had something of a deja vu. They were filming somewhere in the Texan wilderness, and after a rather uneventful shoot—save from Shane yelling for the entity to disembowel him and feed him his intestines—they were all enjoying some colorful, suspiciously sweet drinks at a bar. Ryan overheard Devon saying to Curly, “—and with her teeth, you know? She’s just so scared she’s gonna send the guy to the E.R to get stitches on his dong, or something.”

“Oh no, it’s not so bad! It’s all practice, really. And attention. No drunk blowing until she’s sure she knows what goes where.” Curly said it with a smile, then looked around the table and found Ryan’s eyes. He winked at him, then said to Devon, “It’s just fangs, honey. Lots of fangs go near dicks without scalping them, it’s fine.”

As Devon laughed, Ryan felt compelled to lean across the table and add, “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it, really.”

Curly gave him a pleasantly surprised look, while Devon—a couple of drinks ahead of both of them—just giggled. “But sometimes _it is_ that hard,” she said, snorting into her glass.

They laughed, and Shane, who had been listening to Matt and Eli’s discussion over something or another, turned to them. “What’s so funny?”

“Vampire blowjobs!” Devon said, rather loudly. They all cracked up again, even Shane, amused with her drunken antics.

“I was just saying,” Ryan turned to Shane, grinning. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, it isn’t?”

“Nope. I think I’m getting pretty good at it, actually.”

Shane laughed, blushing, and Ryan tried to pretend he wasn’t blushing either, saying that out loud in a table full of their friends. They hadn’t exactly kept it a secret that they were together, but it wasn’t like Ryan had been fully honest about it either. But something about that night had sparked it in him, the freedom to talk about these things without feeling embarrassment. He remembered it so vividly, the time he and Shane were talking to another group of friends about sex and how surprised Ryan had been at Shane’s previous vampire experiences. It seemed so long ago, now that Ryan could understand it, now that he had seen it first hand...

“I think you just need to find the right person to do it with,” he said, not looking away from Shane. Curly literally fanned himself, letting out a bunch of expletives in Spanish as Devon laughed; Matt and Eli looked confused at the ruckus on the other side of the table.

“And did you?” Shane asked, smiling in that sweet, timid way of his when he was smitten about something Ryan had said or done.

“Yes, I did.”

And then he leaned in to meet his lips.


End file.
